


Feelings

by RandomFangirl2021



Category: Good Omens (TV)
Genre: (Beelzebub either), Gabriel is Bad at Feelings (Good Omens), Gen, He/Him Pronouns For Gabriel (Good Omens), Light Angst, Ze/Zir Pronouns for Beelzebub (Good Omens), and Gabriel is not completely fine with this, haha feelings go brr, idk kinda a shitpost, meaning the Apocalypse failed
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-28
Updated: 2021-03-07
Packaged: 2021-03-12 12:35:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,633
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29759724
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RandomFangirl2021/pseuds/RandomFangirl2021
Summary: (I have no idea how to explain this, it just popped in my mind, soo there you go)The Apocalypse did not happen.Everyone is happy.Everyone?
Relationships: Beelzebub & Gabriel (Good Omens), Beelzebub/Gabriel (Good Omens)
Comments: 7
Kudos: 5





	1. Fear, Helplessness, Hatred (and Alcohol)

**Author's Note:**

> Haha emotions go brrr

So. 

The Apocalypse did not happen. 

Beelzebub stormed back to Hell, barely a blurry human shape lost in a dark buzzing cloud of flies. Red eyes glowed menacingly amongst said cloud, and the demons zie crossed knew better than to try and ask zir about what happened on the surface. 

The Prince of Hell and Lord of Flies slammed the door of zir office so hard it could have collapsed. But the door behaved and stayed perfectly intact. 

Crossing the obscure, small room, Beelzebub walked past zir throne and dropped to the floor, ignoring the crass covering it. You learned to live in it, after a few centuries, a few millennia, when it was the only thing you had left. 

The demon let down zir barrier of magic, stopping to even try to look like a proper human. Zie became an even vaguer than before masquerade of a torso, and legs, then the rest was all a mess. 

The jagged mess of zir, all black, palpitating flesh, with two pairs of long, thin, haired legs as arms, and red, compound eyes all over zir face. It couldn’t even be called a face anymore, zie always thought grimly as zie rubbed zir ‘arms’ together. 

Just a wholly sleek oval, black as Death’s eyes, from which sprouted unnatural mouthparts. And from zir back, not even feather wings like the other fallen, just – fly wings. 

The only thing that the Fall left zir – _left zir to even think zie were ever an angel, a soft, golden creature with million eyes and gleaming light and pristine wings_ \- were just a handful of dusty, lone black feathers arising on zir insect joints. 

Antennas low, Beelzebub hid zir messed figure in zir alien arms, feeling for the first time in a long time something blossom in zir poisoned, rotten, drown in sulfur heart. 

It was a soft, delicate black rose, opening its petals to the world, leaves gently fluttering on a drumming tempo, older than the world, older than the Creation. One of the first feelings ever felt, in the Garden of Eden, in the rebelling angels’ souls. 

**Fear.**

Another quivering figure was standing in what could be called an office. 

This office was completely different from the previous one. It was overwhelmingly spacious – maybe infinite - , so much it made you feel trapped. Only the presence of a large, polished oak wood desk and a chair allowed to spot where the floor was – otherwise everything was white, white and wide and so bright it hurt.

Everything, except the desk, the chair, and Gabriel the Archangel, on the floor, his appearance barely allowing to assume he was kneeling, hands joined. 

Purple eyes were opened all over his body, and his usually flawless suit had been torn apart by four gold wings growing endlessly from his back. His halo was showing from times to times, as did the holy fire of his soul. He was changing constantly, and if an external observer would have been here they probably would have had a headache trying to look at him. 

One second he was almost looking like a human, the next he was all burning wheels spinning, like he was set ablaze, the next he wasn’t joining hands in his prayer but lion paws with onyx claws, and in these constant changes he kept screaming, howling, crying in desperate majesty, shrieking in fear, fear, fear, ready to be obliterated at any moment, ripped apart to shreds, smitten by some godly wrath- 

But despite his praying, the Almighty did not respond. And somehow it made him feel worse.

An uncharacteristic sob escaped Gabriel’s mouth. His corporation, flickering between human and angelic, kept on trembling. He gave up and unclasped his hands, claws, talons, then allowed himself to lie on his side, curling up in a tight ball. 

He brought his immense wings to him, futilely trying to protect himself from that never ending white surrounding him. 

The Apocalypse was stopped. He failed, he failed, disappointed God, disobeyed, and for the first time in his whole life Gabriel understood true fear. Helplessness. 

He guessed that he was grasping what the rebelling angels felt, when they Fell. 

And maybe soon, he thought, he was going to fully understand their turmoil upon joining them. 

Fed by those thoughts, a black and orange butterfly opened its glistening wings in Gabriel’s tormented heart. Human believed that dreaming of such a butterfly pointed out a barrier in their hearts, a barrier of fear. The delicate insect cleaned carefully its antennas, unfazed by the constant drumming of the human thing that birthed it. 

-

Beelzebub rubbed zir face – or what could be considered as one, whatever -, zir chest heaving with zir ragged breath. It was stupid, zie thought. Zie had absolutely no need to breathe, or to have a heartbeat. Yet it felt oddly comforting. 

Well. If zie were going to do it the human way, what did those do when they felt like shit? 

Zir brain willingly lent an answer. 

_Get completely pissed?_  
Yeah, zie thought as zie got up, trying to collect zirselves. That sounded good. 

-

With a snap of fingers, Gabriel fixed his suit. He shoved wings and halo into their plane of existence, and straightened his purple tie. 

He had to do something, for sure, but what? 

After taking a look of his blank surroundings, he shivered. He would not find an answer here. The pure perfection of Heaven wasn’t as calming anymore, he reflected thoughtfully as he marched away. 

He needed something else, to find an idea. A colorful chaos, with noise and people. 

Well, Earth it will be. 

-

On Beelzebub’s way, a man treaded in dog shit, a little kid’s ice cream fell, and an exhausted businessman, finally arrived in front of his flat, realized that he forgot his key. Demonic influence, that.

The Prince of Flies had left zir usual outfit at ‘home’, suddenly wanting nothing more than to travel unnoticed. Zie wore a loose grey hoodie, with the hood hiding zir head, and black shorts pulled on top of ripped tights. Then zie miracled into existence, with this, a pair of black combat boots, zir guilty pleasure. Zie loved the feeling of zir heels stomping down on the ground, and it added a few welcomed inches to zir corporation. 

Zie pushed open the door of the first bar to come into zir view. 

“A Sazzzerac. Without sugar.” Zie called, throwing zirselves on a high stool. 

The barman looked up and raised an eyebrow, grinning as he took in the sight of Beelzebub. 

“Why poppet, you sure ‘bout this one? Wouldn’t you prefer a nice little coke?” 

Beelzebub glared menacingly and the man suddenly felt the urge to fix the ordered drink as fast as possible. 

As soon as the glass was placed in front of zir, zie demanded another and downed the first in one loud gulping. The strong beverage burned zir throat just right. 

-

Gabriel was roaming London streets absently. He did not really want to go for a jog, nor to accomplish any good deeds. 

For maybe the first time in his life, he felt like he had no purpose. He was… useless. 

It struck him like a train. He was useless now. He stopped walking abruptly as his mind processed this. 

Completely useless.  
And in central London, without anyone knowing, an archangel had his first identity crisis. But it was an accelerated one. 

-

Beelzebub kept downing glass after glass. The burn almost reminded zir of the Fall. Almost, because nothing would ever feel worse than the Fall. 

_Drink, drink, drink, burn your throat and drown your heart. With luck your tears will also turn into alcohol, and you will swallow them back easily._

A cute little petunia the color of blood grew next to the rose in Beelzebub’s heart. Petunias, as one should know before gifting some, have quite a negative meaning.  
They may express hatred, or resentment. 

The petals of the newborn bloom were turned toward the dark heart of the demon. 

Beelzebub decided to change drinks and asked for a Zombie. Zie downed it more slowly, feeling zir corporation protest. Zie closed zir eyes. 

“You should have been more competent, Beezzzzz.” Zie murmured, eyes glassy. Taking another gulp, zie punished zirselves for zir incompetence. 

-

A man was walking in the street. He had a neat suit and a straight tie, but his hair were messed up, as if he let his trembling hands roam them and scratch his head too much. 

His purple eyes weren’t looking anywhere, barely caressing what they saw, and his mouth was a thin, inexpressive line on his face. 

He didn’t look like he was going anywhere, simply following the crowd general direction. Walking with the herd. 

A perfectly blank moth fluttered clumsily around his heart, apparently having no idea where to go either. 

Gabriel’s footsteps somehow made him face a door. He pushed it and walked in the (nearly) empty place. 

-

An angel meets a demon in a bar. What’s next?

-

“Well izzzzn’t it the-“ Beelzebub stumbled on zir own words. 

“The-“ Come on Beez, you can do it, zie thought with determination.

Zie finally threw zir arms in the air, eyes shining and a lot of glasses empty in front of zir. “ _The archangel fuckin’ Gabrielllll!!_ ” Beelzebub yelled, clearly trashed. 

Said archangel stared at zir. He considered smiting zir, taking advantage of zir weakness, but he sighed and abandoned this idea, choosing instead to sit on a bar stool next to the demon. 

“Bob! A bone dry martini f’r mah favorite enemyyyy!” 

The barman took out a glass and started to prepare the drink, like a robot. Beelzebub had to convince him a bit to have more than two Zombies. 

Beelzebub downed another Sazerac and rested zir head on zir crossed arms. Zie stared at the archangel with a hiccup. 

“Wot’re you doin’ here?” zie slurred drunkenly, not really expecting zir question to have a lot of importance. 

Gabriel stared at his martini like it held the secret of life, and sipped it slowly. Then he put it down with his hands almost still. 

“I don’t know.” He blurted out. He tried to plaster on his face his plastic smile, but it looked wavering, and he finally gave up and allowed himself to burst into tears. 

Beelzebub stared at the drops of molten gold streaking down the archangel’s face. Zie grumbled and shifted in zir seat. People crying always made zir uncomfortable when zie were drunk. 

“Drink more. Will help.” Zie grunted almost sympathetically, pushing another glass toward him. Gabriel sniffled and drank it obediently. 

-

An angel and a demon get wasted together in a bar. Maybe the ideas will flow better this way.

-

“I think,” Gabriel started. “I think that…” 

He held onto his empty glass and mumbled to himself, searching the end of his sentence. With a decided groan he filled his glass with a snap and gesticulated toward Beelzebub to explain himself when zie looked at him with a raised eyebrow. 

“Will help. Givv.. More ideas.” With those wise words, the archangel downed the glass. 

Beelzebub toyed with the cord of zir hoodie. 

“We should kill ’em.”

Zie sipped another Zombie. 

“Make an example ‘n such, y’know?”

Gabriel stared at zir with his mouth agape. Slowly, his brain was processing the information. 

“Or not.” The demon mumbled, looking down slightly. The alcohol was making zir stranger than usual. Zie felt like zie cared about the other being’s opinion on zir ideas. 

“Thass..one hell of an idea!” Gabriel exclaimed, standing up brusquely and regretting it just as fast. “Who gets who? An’, an’ how?” 

“Dunno. Had the first half of the idea, not the rest. Stop yelling.” Beelzebub groaned at him, staring menacingly. The archangel sat on his stool and pulled it closer to the demon’s as he did so. He made several attempts to snap his fingers, and when he succeeded his glass overflowed with wine. 

“You know, I think you should do C.. C-Crawly, an’ I’ll do Az.. Azi.. Azra..”

“Zerraphaleeee.” The demon supplied helpfully, staring enviously at the archangel’s full glass. 

“Zeraphale, ‘ight. Well we should do it that way.” Gabriel decided, thumping his fist on the bar. Beelzebub took hold of his – still filling – glass and stole a sip. Then another. And another, before choking slightly. "Make an', an' example."

“You can stop fillin’ it, ye know.” The archangel muttered a noise of surprise and an apology as he snapped again, effectively stopping the glass from filling more. And accidentally yeeting a wooden chair into oblivion while doing so. 

“An’ how ‘m I supposed to smite ‘im? Haven’t got any holy water. Doubt you have hellfire, either.” Gabriel made a face indicating that he forgot this part. 

Then he lit up and grinned. “Just have to send Michael!”  
Beelzebub’s face managed to give the impression to be smiling. “An’ me, jus’ gotta send Eric to you!” 

And zie gulped down Gabriel’s wine in celebration. 

-

An angel and a demon make an arrangement over white wine. 

They successfully plan two executions, in a bar, long after the closing hour. 

And if their hands, wavering with drunkenness, linger a bit too long in each other’s hold after being shook over more alcohol, no one will be the wiser. 

And if, in the night, a butterfly and a moth circled a rose and a petunia without daring to touch them, no one will ever know, right?

No one.


	2. Failure, Rain, and more?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> haha yeah so they failed again

It did not – 

It did not work. 

Aziraphale seemed to delight in being shoved in hellfire, and Crowley bathed, if not happily, peacefully in holy water. 

After the… the thing left, because it _could not_ have been an angel, while the other archangels were being properly mindfucked, Gabriel was trying really hard to not have a breakdown right here and right now. 

He failed again. Would he ever be able to success again? To… To make things right? Because it was his purpose, wasn’t it?

The archangel was spiraling in thoughts again, chewing at his very human nails, standing crouched over the emptiness and watching absently the sun set. His feet were dangerously close to the edge of the pit of the abrupt cliff, yet he was almost leaning toward the appalling abyss, wings stretched out in the dusk. A sudden guff of wind could make him tumble and fall, fall, fall, because his wings would stay frozen, and they would burn in his downfall-

He thought he was used to this idea but he couldn’t stop his corporation’s breathing from speeding up suddenly. 

“Careful. Would be a shame to take a tumble, even with your wingzzzzs.” A voice called from not-so-far away. 

Gabriel turned his head to see Beelzebub, his forever enemy, sitting at the cliff’s border with zir legs hanging over nothing. Zie looked just as exhausted as him, and the archangel felt a soft tingle of sympathy for the demon. 

They exchanged a look and went back to staring into the distant sun. 

Then the orange sky was covered with a thin veil of grey clouds. And they started to gently pour their tears on the land. 

Beelzebub shivered and held zirselves. Not that the rain was cold, but zie always had flashbacks when feeling it drip on zir. During the first War, the Holy rains were…

But suddenly there wasn’t droplets falling on zir anymore. Hesitantly, zie looked up, half-expecting to see the clouds miracled away, fully surprised to see golden feathers sheltering zir. 

Zie casted a side glance at zir ‘enemy’, and while he was carefully avoiding zir eyes one of his four oversized wings was indeed held high above zir head.

Beelzebub bit zir lower lip and went back to gazing into the distance, hating angels a little less. And an ever so tiny, lone arbutus flower broke through the surface of zir heart without so much as a little, strange but pleasurable, sting. It was so small, so shy, and hidden from the world. 

_Oh, thee only do I love._

Gabriel’s heart was beating fast but not because of his previous panic attack. 

What was he doing, sheltering a demon from the rain? It was… it was ridiculous! Terribly un-angelic of him! And yet…

He decided to leave his wing where it was. 

Something fragile came to the world. An itty-bitty butterfly, so small it preferred to stay glued to Gabriel’s heart instead of flying around with his predecessors, Fear and Confusion. No, Love was too scared of taking its flight and spreading its wings – it wanted to stay safe, afraid to be crushed.

The two supernatural beings stood there, feeling at least slightly lighter than before without exactly knowing why. 

-

An angel and a demon watch the sky. The angel protects the demon from the rain, and if a God somewhere keeps the sun in the sky a little longer, let a bit more rain fall – who will know? Who will complain?


	3. Longing and Feathers

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *yeets this chapter here before running away*

Beelzebub sat slumped in zir throne, half-listening to Dagon explaining Satan-knows-what. From the corner of zir eye, zie saw that Hastur was absent, but zie didn’t thought of reprimanding him. The loss of Ligur really affected him. 

Other demons were here, yet Beelzebub felt strangely alone. 

“You’re all dismizzzzed. The meeting’s over.” Zie called, waving zir right hand vaguely. Dagon looked offended but a pointed glare reminded him who the boss here was, so he fucked off with the other demons. 

When zie were certain of being alone Beelzebub thumped zir head down on the table and groaned loudly. Why, why were zie thinking about that stupid Archangel? With his stupidly purple eyes, his stupid drunk smile, his stupid, beautiful wings… 

Beelzebub growled louder and willed zir corporation to stop blushing. 

No. No blushing. 

Then zir hand found itself in zir pocket and the blush returned full force. With way more care than needed, the Prince of Hell slowly pulled a long golden feather from zir pocket to gaze at it. 

There was no way in Heaven that zie would put it on the table – it would sully it, zie decided. 

Beelzebub held it close and closed zir eyes, quietly dreaming of a world where zie weren’t too broken to touch, a world where this stupid Archangel would hold zir closer. 

And a pink camellia opened in zir heart – _longing for you._

-

Gabriel was reading reports in his too wide, too bright office. 

Well, was trying to read anyway. When he realized he had been reading the same word for a good hour, he sighed and placed down the pile of papers. He glanced around to check if he was really alone, before shrugging off his vest and his shirt, unfolding his wings with a satisfied hum. He allowed himself a break and abandoned his chair to sit on the floor with what definitely wasn’t angelic grace. 

He laid on his back before shifting to be on his stomach, opening his wings as wide as they needed to be. The floor was cool on his bare chest but he didn’t grimaced, only staring in the distance absently. 

When he realized he could also see the ceiling he noticed a few more eyes than a human needed were open on his lower back. 

Gabriel mumbled and let them be – after all, it felt nice to let them out, like his wings. As if he spoke out loud, new eyes opened on his legs and shoulders – he swore he felt one on his cheek. 

He made the mistake to look at one of his wings, and THE memory hit him full force. Beelzebub, looking tiny and worn out, protected by _his_ wing, curved above zir head to shield zir from the rain, and from the rest of the world, too bright and too loud and too much- 

And _he_ , Gabriel, was the one allowed to see zir like this. 

The archangel nearly growled as his wings curved and fluffed up in a defensive gesture. But not to defend him, to protect a demon too small, to fragile-

“Enough, stop. Zie- Zie is not even here.” He scowled. But very secretly, so no one could hear, he wished that zie _were_ there, lying next to him. 

In his heart, Love shyly opened its tiny wings, giving a few tentative flutters. 

-

An angel and a demon pretend to be fine on their own. But oh, how they hope to see each other, how they dream of looks and soft touches. 

How they _want_ each other.

-

A meeting was called. The last one was long ago, but this was a particular time for both sides, with Armageddon failed and suchlike. 

Heaven and Hell needed a neutral place, so it was very naturally that they settled on the hidden face of the Moon. 

While the lesser demons and angels roamed the dusty surface absently, eyeing each other suspiciously, the Archangels sat in front of Hell’s higher authorities (and therefore the Prince), only separated by a table. 

During this meeting, no one failed to notice the almost constant glower between Gabriel and Beelzebub. 

One might think they were trying to intimidate one other. One would be wrong. 

The Archangel was drinking in the sight of his ‘enemy’, and Beelzebub couldn’t even consider stopping looking at him. 

In the end, they all agreed to have a truce, for now. No smiting, the angels swore, and less major demonic actions, the demons surrendered. 

Gabriel and Beelzebub shook hands, and if an external observer would have considered the handshake brutal, the Archangel and the Prince of Hell in fact held each other’s fingers very softly. 

And when he teleported himself back at his office, Gabriel found with surprise a small black feather in his hand. 

He never put so much magic in a single protective miracle before, yet here we are.

**Author's Note:**

> Well, ta-daa? Maybe a next part, I dunno yet


End file.
